The Best Laid Plans of Tony Stark
by Prisoner-of-Conscience
Summary: Tony makes a decision that ruins a mission...at Steve's expense. With Steve hurt and Tony to blame, the two must learn to communicate better. Tony guilt and Steve being, well, Steve


There are some things in life we just don't appreciate. Kickin' ass…takin' names…programming JARVIS to play God Bless America when Steve says the word 'freedom'…which happens delightfully more often than you'd think, by the way. It's true there are things we don't appreciate enough… but Cap's calm and irritatingly controlled demeanor in the face of battle just isn't one of those things.

"Clint could use some cover right now!" Cap's voice filled my helmet.

"Ya know speaking of cover, I was just on the front page of GQ. It was there spring edition, 'Men of Charm' was the category this year. It's weird, Rogers I don't remember you being on the invite list… but then again they only accept men under 60–" I let myself trail off as

I scanned the ground before finding Clint perched on some rather precariously balanced debris. I fired my thrusters and flew towards him, elegantly might I add.

"You boys better stop comparing the sizes of your d–"

"Natasha! Not the time." Steve was always ruining the fun. Battle focus and all that. If you ask me it's just because the man can't multitask.

"So, Barton, now that you're not up to your neck in murderous drones, you need a lift?"

"Take me up." I lifted Barton and dropped him on the roof of a nearby building so he could pick off the drones before they got too close to the ground. Fury had sent us to Milan to stop an army of drones from overtaking the city. Drones. Milan. And here I thought the Italians spent their days drinking wine and finding a way to reinvent gladiatorial fighting.

"You know I'm so glad we took this little vaca–"

"Vaca?" Steve's linguistic ignorance still managed to make itself known despite the fact that he was busy playing ultimate frisbee with flying metal.

" 'V-ae-kay-shun' let's say it all together, shall we?"

But we didn't say it at all because I was distracted by the horribly intimidating drone with steel jaws and burning projectiles that appeared from the sky.

"I don't remember seeing _that_ at Best Buy."

The monster-bot was the Queen Bee, it seemed; all the smaller drones began flying towards her.

"Let's stop these things before we lose all of Italy." I began flying towards the mass of metal when annoying little voices filled my helmet.

"Stark we can't just attack the damn thing. We don't even know where these are coming from or what they want. Fury's working on getting us more intel and our mission is just to keep the things from the streets. We can't have them hurting civilians."

"Rogers, do you see the massive metal death bot? I think it's safe to say we won't be wasting our time attacking it."

"I'm just saying we're not playing with a full deck, Tony. Bruce stayed back and Thor's not here to conveniently shock of these things into submission so we can't just charge into this blindly."

"Steve's right, Tony. We need a plan."

"Alright, fine. I'll make this _ice_ and simple so everyone can understand-"

"You did not just make that pun." Barton's tone didn't even have a smidgen of praise. No taste in that one.

"I'll have you know, Goddess Diana oh I'm sorry I mean you manly man with your masculine bow and manly arrows—" I was cut off by the death machine roaring. I addressed the drone:

"Did your mother ever punish you for interrupting like that? Did she send you to the Chokey one too many times? I'm sensing maybe that's where you got your design inspiration…so back to my regularly scheduled programming…Cap and Nat, you loop behind this thing on the ground and I'll force it to the streets so Clint can fire some magic fire arrows and we can go home."

"Tony we can't bring this thing down to the street—the civilians. We can't forget this is someone's home, Stark."

"I don't think the civilians are gonna be worried about their homes if Italy gets blown off the map. You might be a Captain but I'm not your soldier. I'm going in."

I saw Natasha and Steve dash behind the mother-drone and I continued flying.

"JARVIS, please record this moment of leadership so I can post it to YouTube later."

The drone had teeth-like shards protecting its outside shell and small blasters on the side that sent out whizzing bursts of fire. It was charming. I was charmed.

"Okay JARVIS let's see what she's got going on here. Scan for faulty wiring, weak spots, anything."

"Initiating scan, Sir."

Blue lights flashed in front of me as JARVIS calculated the integrity of the robot's frame. Based on it's design I figured I could recalibrate her nucleonic mainframe and short circuit her wiring so she'd overheat and become penetrable. Suddenly, the drone turned on its axis and its jaws began spinning as it began to move closer to the ground.

"Talk to me, JARVIS. Our Iron Lady's getting pretty sick of parliament right about now."

"The drone's mainframe is incredibly strong, Sir. You need a direct blast at a 62 degree angle in the lower left quadrant to render it any harm."

"Tony, you heard that as clearly as I did, let's wait for Fury."

"Natasha this thing is gettin' antsy. Any more waiting and she'll summon her sister and I don't have any houses to conveniently drop."

"We can't let it make it to the streets, Tony."

"Remember that thing I said about not being a soldier?" I paused, feeling the heat rush to my face in anger, "soldiers don't follow orders. Time to break rank."

I lifted my arms and told JARVIS to give her all we've got. The blue beams fired as I lowered myself closer to the ground and the _other_ iron giant began lowering its altitude as well.

"Stark, Nat and Cap and still on the ground with the little drones…you might wanna slow down."

"Relax, Barton. We got time."

I _thought_ I had time but the robot began firing more bursts of fire and she started rapidly descending.

"Okay guys time to get outta there—Barton was right."

"Come again?" Clint was smug.

"We can always replace you with Edward Norton, Birdman. Watch it."

I looked on as Cap ricocheted his shield off a smaller drone and dodged one coming at his head. Natasha ducked and jumped and smashed the metal onslaught as best she could but they were both tiring. As the spinning jaws began to descend, I started to really worry about my timing. Or lack thereof.

"Get out of there— NOW, please."

Thankfully, Barton appeared and drew fire so Natasha could make a get-away.

"Last one, Steve. Time's up."

"Well we woulda had more time if you hadn't—"

I watched as one of the big drone's fire balls came flying towards Steve who was too busy fighting to notice that the flames coming at his back.

"DUCK!"

I hadn't specifically told _him_ to duck but I'm glad his militaristic instincts kicked in as he attempted to lower himself, and his shield, to the ground. I was so relieved that the blast missed him that I hardly noticed the fact that he was now cowering under the shadow of the teeth-wielding giant. He lifted his shield but the serrated edges of the drone had already pierced his side and as he sank to the ground, he was left without any guard against the small drones still encircling him.

"Steve?"

The others had seen the ordeal and they looked for Steve to respond. I felt my heart skip out of rhythm as I saw Rogers disappear from my view. I swear I felt the pieces of shrapnel move closer to my heart.

"JARVIS we're ending this. Now." I flew directly towards the lower left quadrant of the sputtering machine and I eventually burned through the exterior and charred the wiring inside. She fell to the ground with a cacophony but what hurt my ears more that the clanking was the sound of Steve's ragged breathing.

"…H-" My voice caught in my throat as I felt my airway tighten and my chest collapse inward.

"Sir, you appear to be suffering from a mild panic attack. It is recommended you remove yourself from stressful situations and focus on keeping your breathing pattern steady."

"JARVIS-" my voice was thin and airy, "h-how's Cap? I need a reading of his vitals. Nat are you with him? How's it looking?"

"Better if you hadn't—"

"GODDAMNIT, Barton I _know."_

 _"_ He's—yeah Tony…it's uh—" Natasha struggled to find the words as she frantically tried to both speak and asses the situation—the _disaster_. _My_ disaster.

"Sir, your heart rate is steadily increasing."

"STEVE, JARVIS."

"The receptors in Captain Rogers' suit indicate an increased heart rate, decreased breath sounds, rapid blood loss and elevated levels of adrenaline." It felt my suit closing in on me…as I glided past the wreckage my mind was racing, _okay Tony you are having a panic attack…well you just killed Captain America so I guess that's decent cause for panic. No—you didn't kill him, he's fine. He's gonna be fine. You know what else is fine? Pepper's ass. Pepper's gotta fine ass. Let's think about that, huh? Let's just breathe. JARVIS told you to breathe. Tony, you son of a bitch, Steve's bleeding out because of you and you're thinking about Pepper's ass? Well no, you're not thinking about Pepper's ass you're actually just trying to find SOMETHING, ANYTHING to stop the guilt from inhibiting all function and reason. Ha ha ha so glad to see the stakes are low. Steve would never think of himself in the third person; of course not. Because what ignorant, naive, egotistical, asshole thinks about themselves in the third person? Oh right—me. Because my existence is necessary only to demonstrate the kind of man someone shouldn't be_.

I finally flew past the wreckage and sent my mini missiles to take care of the few remaining drones. A sheen of black covered Steve from my view as Natasha and Clint had bent over him, covering his form from me. Hiccuped breathing resounded in the air around us and I saw the creeping pool of blood channel through the cracks of the city ground before I saw his face.

His helmet was still on but the chin strap had been unclasped; his eyes focused solely on the sky and his body trembled subtly. I knelt down by Clint and swallowed the bubble in my throat that had been urging me to gag.

"JARVIS, patch me through to S.H.I.E.L.D—"

"How you doin', Steve? You still with us?" Natasha attempted to meet his absent gaze.

He opened his mouth to respond but when Clint pressed on his wounded side his words were swallowed by garbled moans.

"S.H.I.E.L.D on the line, Sir."

"Mission went south. The city's secure but Rogers needs e-vac—" My own voice was lost in the frantic exchange between the four of us and the agents on the other line.

"Cap? You with us?"

"—w-wouldn't wanna..m-miss this party."

"If you call this a party I think maybe the 40's social scene was a bit lacking." Nat attempted to distract as she bandaged the burns on his arms with her pocket dressing.

"N-not that this is news…" Steve was lucid enough to be speaking but the grimace etched on his face told me he wouldn't be conscious much longer, "b-but I'm gonna need to p-pass out real s-oon."

"Sir, S.H.I.E.L.D estimates arrival of the medical team to be approximately two minutes."

"Hear that, Cap? Two minutes more and you can sleep for as long as you want." The bubble was back in my throat, but this time it wasn't because I was going to vomit, it was because I was going to cry.

() () () () () ()

The flight was long, granted my patience is sub-par, but it wasn't actually the flight time that made the trip feel like an eternity. It was his face. Rogers' face. He laid on the cot with wires and tubes and bandages and burns and stitches and fractures, but his face was unscathed. His pale skin made the bags under his eyes that much more noticeable and his clenched jaw, even in sleep, was a reminder of his broken form, but his face was so young. The last time I looked as young as Rogers I was doing keg stands on Friday nights and taking theoretical physics exams on Mondays. He was shooting guns and running from blasts and watching his friends die. And here I am thinking I'm the wise one. I know I'm not a leader, not a team player and all that but somehow I still thought I was just…better. Not a better man, not a better soldier, but…I was just so convinced he was naive. And now because of me, he's the casualty we never wanted to happen.

He shifted in his forced slumber—they had given him some sedatives but with his metabolism they're never really sure if the drugs will last. I watched as he continued to fidget and selfishly hoped he wouldn't wake up. The automatic door opened behind me but I kept my gaze on the Super Soldier. Natasha arrived at my side and never looked at me, keeping her eyes on Steve as well. She was the first to speak.

"Just talked to the med team. They said the serum kicked into overdrive to repair the tear in his stomach and they stopped the internal bleeding so…they said he should be ok."

"And the burns?"

"Second degree. He'll live."

"We wouldn't have to be having this conversation if I had bothered to listen to him."

"We all make bad calls, Tony. Cap understands that better than anyone."

"But I didn't. I don't really understand the stakes we play at—for christ-sake Natasha, I make jokes about him being old and washed up and too perfect and he's just…"

"A kid?" She questioned and I turned to meet her eyes.

"No. That's the point. He should be but he's not."

"I know, Stark. I was just making sure you did."

"You know up until today I used to believe that I could do his job. Not that I'd ever want to, God that's a pain-in-the-ass gig having to take orders and give orders and organize and plan and motivate and _lead._ But I believed that I _could,_ if I ever had to. But I can't. I could never handle that much responsibility. I can't even take care of myself."

"We need you, Tony. We need him too. We don't have to choose between the two." With that, Romanoff left and I raised my hand to rub my face. Steve stirred again but this time his eyes opened drowsily. My feet began moving towards him before I bothered telling them to and I stood over him, almost literally hovering. If I had my suit on, I would have been.

"Steve—"

"Don't." He turned his head towards me and I only blinked in response. His chest rose and fell steadily but I saw his white knuckles and protruding jaw line and obviously the sight did little to eliminate my guilt.

"I know what you're going to say," he took a labored breath but I remained silent, impressive, I know, and I let him finish.

"Any call could have been the wrong one. Mine just as easily as yours…" He took another moment to recover.

"We're friends, Tony. You just got a little trigger happy—it happens. I know w-what weight guilt has. It's not w-worth it, Stark." He looked at me almost peacefully and I opened my mouth to speak.

"You know when I met you—God I just hated you. So much. You wouldn't believe the loathing. And it was easy to hate you because your such an easy target I mean c'mon. The old man jokes, the out-of-touch jokes, the jokes you didn't even know were insulting…you made it too easy." Steve looked at me with as much of a grin as he could muster but I saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"Steve?"

"I—I can't do this now, Tony." I wasn't gonna make him suffer through the explanation as to why so I just put my hand on his shoulder and said, "I'll get the doctors to give you something for—" For the _pain_ I finished in my head.

() () () () () ()

Just less than a week after the Milan disaster, Steve was up and walking and talking and breathing and I've never felt more relieved in my life. I knew he would be okay but at the same time I didn't quite believe it. I found him sitting on the couch at my tower, watching tv. I approached him a little hesitantly.

"Hey, Cap. You feelin' any better?"

"Definitely _better_ but not quite—"

"Perfect?"

"I was never _perfect,_ Tony."

"Hmmm…I don't know. Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect integration of vintage and modern style—"

"That part I certainly had help with." He smiled crookedly with only one side forming a half grin but it was endearing.

"So now that you're on bed-rest, what are you gonna do with all this time, old man?"

I had a revelation about my teammate, true, but what? I was gonna let the snide remarks go? What kind of person would I be if I didn't treat Steve with the same kind of affection I showed the others? I smirked at my own thoughts. Indulgent, I know, but has anyone expected anything less than that? I feel like I'd be disappointing them. I grinned again. I was thrown off by Steve's sudden speech until I realized I _had_ asked him a question.

"Well I wouldn't say my house arrest is any kind of new found 'freedom'…"

I smirked in anticipation. I told you he says 'freedom' more than you'd think, didn't I?

The opening notes sounded and the lyrics emanated from the speakers as per JARVIS' programming. _Look at what's happened to me, I can't believe it myself. Suddenly I'm up on top of the world…_ Steve looked up at me in surprise and I was begging the culture gods he recognized the song.

"Didn't—I thought when I said 'freedom' it played God Bless America? I don't get this joke. Sorry." Leave it to Steve to apologize.

"This one's not a joke, Cap. Scout's honor."

"Then what is it?"

"I guess you could call it an apology. It's the theme to an old show. Well, guess it's not old for you. It's from _Greatest American Hero_." He smiled… I smiled… It was charming.

"Greatest, huh?"

"Greatest."


End file.
